My 4 hours of being an adult

I attended a lecture at Longwood last night. I was away from home without any children to hang from my body from 6-10pm. It was a new record. I felt rather naked without somebody tugging on me going "mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy" the entire evening.
So I enjoyed being able to think without interruption and I would have enjoyed speaking in complete sentences had I been presented with any opportunity for conversation, but I wasn't.
The lecture was about the process of joining the AIFD. And I left the lecture not entirely convinced that the prestige would be worth the cost.... but it sounds nice to have an acronym to list after your name, right? Well the second half of the lecture was a critique of a bunch of arrangements based on the AIFD entry exam criteria. I did not love any of them. The need to be different and "creative" seemed to trump any desire to be easy on the eyes. The presenter kept referring with scorn to "designing for the masses" and "Martha Stewart style". This elitism among artists can occasionally get under my skin. I tweeted away, disagreeing with him with the only voice I felt I could safely use. And lots of people there disagreed with him out loud and it was okay because they'd established the point of art being ambiguous. But I enjoyed being able to listen and have complete, uninterrupted thoughts and I felt pretty affirmed that I could do this, and possibly excel at it. I just need to try it.
The crucifix bouquet.... given fabulous grades even though I can't think of a bride that would be willing to use it. What good is a bouquet with no one to hold it?
An all green arrangement. Some people hated the monocromatic-ness of it. That didn't bother me so much as the "stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni-ness" of it.
Official title: The anti-Martha arrangement. They inserted a 20guage wire in a reed and bent it into what they called a "pleasing random" pattern. I thought it looked like it was mad at me. Not really what a floral arrangement should be communicating.


Ta-da! And entire post without my kids in it. An anomoly, for now.

SOS

This child is aging me quickly.
I feel like a very viable candidate for Super Nanny today.
He was glued to the TV this morning while I dealt with a slightly sick and stuffy Captain, and screamed at me when I tried to drag him to library story-time "No, I want watch TEEEVEEE!". (Strike 1)
At library storytime he was loud and antsy and kept coming back to the stroller to try to extricate our packed lunch from the bottom basket. (Not allowed, no eating in the library kiddo) Lots of both of my children screaming at the same time. F.U.N.
(Strike 2)
While I return last weeks books Sir O disappears from sight not once, but about 7 times. The librarians glare.
(Strike 3, oh... there are more)
As we exit the building (with a few books I frantically checked out... my mistake) I realize both boys smell like they need to be changed. One of the librarians who had given us a particularly stale crusty walks ahead of us into the bathroom, so I opt to NOT change them in there. We find a shady spot outside the library, and with the intention of heading to the adjacent park, I pause to change Sir O, then the Captain. When I have about 30 seconds left before I'm done with the Captain, Sir O books it across the parking lot (complete with moving cars) toward the park. I contemplate leaving the captain half-dressed on the ground to dash after him, but after I see he made it safely out of harm's way, I follow him with the stroller, swat him soundly, and drag him kicking and screaming back to the car. I figured he needed a swift and related consequence for such dangerous behavior.
(Strikes 4-12 if you will)
We get home, have our picnic lunch at the kitchen table, and I send Sir O to bed while I nurse the whimpering Captain and fold laundry in our heat wave. Because of numerous fans and AC units, it takes me a while to realize I can hear the sound of tearing paper. Sir O, not sleeping, has torn one library book to shreds. SHREDS.
(Strike 13?)
He wins, I give up.
No more leaving the house until he's 25.
And I just realized both of those diapers are still in the stroller, in the trunk, out in the heat wave. Holy grossness.

don't mind the crazy lady

I had been planning to take the boys to go see the sheep shearing at the Wentz farm until I found out Mr Renn couldn't join us. He's joined some friends at church on a temple trip today.
Then I thought about it again and decided to be insane and try to go by myself with Sir O and the Captain.
The farm itself is really cool, and they had what looked like awesome demonstrations of what can be done by hand with wool. Quite naturally I wasn't able to enjoy any of that coolness. But Sir O got to see sheep, chickens, turkeys, horses and cows.... oh and LOTS OF ROCKS....and we ran into some friends so I guess it was all good.

Getting back to the car proved to be painful. Among other misadventures Sir O coated himself in tree sap.(Remember that part where Mr Renn thinks we don't need a double stroller? Yeah........)

But I have lived to tell the tale.
More photos here.

stepped aside

Sorry about my brief disappearance (you didn't even notice, did you?) I sort of tried to read a book. I can't seem to read a book and do anything else at the same time.

But since I finished the book at 2am, and Sir O let me sleep until 7am (aack).... I had to find something else to do today. Today was a car-less day, so I tried to be creative and fit Sir O in with the Captain's carseat in our jogging stroller. He tried to be patient with the squishiness, but we will not be doing that again.

my pretty " the sun's in my eyes" face

And now the Captain is screaming so loud I can't think straight to remember anything else I wanted to say. That is my life right now, and it's ok.

The Captain says "Good Morning"

my squee

image by pgjennielove

I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.
And nervous.
After a tremendous amount of hemming and hawing and mulling over and vacillating between being excited and feeling way too insecure..... I am going back to school.

Sort of.

I'm officially registered for all the core courses to complete a Certificate of Merit in Floral Design.
Which is a very different direction from my previous formal education.
But oh my goodness how good it feels in my soul to think about the tactile experiences that await me!
Although I'm nervous about memorizing scads of flower types. I haven't used that part of my brain in a long long time.

I'm so happy that there are people who love me enough to facilitate such an awesome opportunity. I threw the idea out into the world of things-said-out-loud with very little hope for actualization. It's my own mini-miracle. Even class times have mysteriously changed to work better with our schedule so we won't need as much babysitting.

Come June the flowers may take over my blog.

sang as they walked

Knowing that rainy weather was coming, we tried to enjoy the last of the non-rain for a while and took a walk on Sunday afternoon. The late-season narcissus were happy to see us, and Sir O went about his usual business of collecting treasures, singing, and dawdling. I thought you might like to know what it's like to take a walk with us......

Rainy Days and Mondays

On a previous boring rainy day we planted some navy beans in a window planter in our stairwell. On this boring rainy day they have sprouted and jumped up almost an inch. Sir O promptly yanked the two biggest sprouts out of the box (sigh), but I think I can save the rest.

This was really easy to do. Beans must be the easiest of all things to grow. I had a bag of dried navy beans from the grocery store, I rolled about 20 of them up in a wet/damp paper towel and put it in an airtight ziplock bag to keep it from drying out. 3-4 days later I checked to see which ones had begun to sprout, and planted those ones.

I'm hoping Sir O learns something from all this. At the very least, it can't be bad for him.

Happy Greek Easter

Had to find some excuse to wear our intended-for-Easter-clothes.
From us to you....

hyacinth

Not feeling very verbose.
Possibly because it's after midnight, and I have to get up early and get the boys ready for church BY MYSELF in the morning.
Triple ugh.

But we had a splendid outing to Longwood today to see their kite festival. Naturally we took zero pictures of kites while there. (But the photos we did take are here.)
The trees were all blooming and everything smelled so lovely. It was a warm, solidly spring-ish day. I felt like I was waking up from a long, depressing sleep.

Well... I was feeling that way until I found out that somehow my WIC ID got swapped with someone elses at the WIC office last week. Will not be fun to sort out, plus involved humiliation and panic at the grocery store. That sent me pummeling back into my depressed half-alive state.

But,
back to happy thoughts....
Did you see HSF's beautiful new boy?

Playhouse

To celebrate Mr Renn finally being done with his finals, we took a trip to the Smith Memorial Playhouse. It was almost fun enough to be worth having to drag Sir O away from it. Hooray for free outings! If you want a laugh at my expense (and who doesn't), check out the videos of us going down the "big slide" here.


Also Sir O got his summer haircut today. He was sweating profusely all the way home, so it was a mercy killing. If only he didn't have such a sweaty head, I love his longer hair! Alas, now he and his dad have matching buzzy heads. That's all I'm saying about that. I'm not the wordiest version of myself today.

Whirly birds in my brain

Never in my life have I claimed to be "good with kids".
I still don't.
The only reason I had any success as an adolescent babysitter was because I would sit the kids in front of a video they'd never seen before and I'd scour the house.
I kind of wish I could find a babysitter like me, actually.
A free one.

But I have not got the gentle powers of persuasion that bring out the best behavior in kids. I was never one to ask to hold other people's babies. I secretly prefer the company of adults. This is especially problematic now that I find myself surrounded by the under 5 set at all times.

I do try. And I love my boys. I just feel a bit unqualified for the job today.
And I'd kind of like a conversation of complete sentences that doesn't start with me yelling, "Don't hit/wake up your brother!"

I really miss college today. The advantage of attending a huge university is that there are so many people that you inevitable wind up with friends who have a lot in common with you. It's not like real life where you are friends with whomever lands in your life. (Though that's good too.) You get to rifle through the crowd and pick. I miss the foreign film nights and the gourmet cooking nights. I really miss the sitting through brilliant lectures and then helping each other study part. The conversations about obscure Tom and Jerry cartoons during Prohibition and Mae West's version of feminism.

It's quite the contrast with Maisy Mouse and arguments about whether Sir O gets to wear his Lightning McQueen shirt that lights up. (That would be one of those grandparents' revenge gifts).

I think largely I'm just sick and tired of Mr Renn's finals that have been dragged out for 3 weeks. It's been lonely.

I have a Song for You

This is Sir O singing in the car.... as captured on my cell phone.
This particular song went on for about 12 minutes.

Lyrics: far away, far away, far away, far away...
....

Dilemma

I have a dilemma.
Sir O keeps staying up later and later.
But you see, he's looking at books.

And I was the child who snuck flashlights into bed so I could read after the lights were out...
So how am I supposed to be firm about going to bed instead of reading Jemima Puddleduck?

Treasures

After our walk+picnic today, we emptied out Sir O's pockets and let him show us his treasures.
I think we stopped every 4 steps to pick up another rock.

E-day

I have a terrible habit of getting migraines on holidays.
I really ought to knock that off.

But because of this bad habit, there aren't many photos from our Easter.

Table set in our living room/music room/library/study/playroom
There may or may not have been some dirty dishes......


I had a whole series of mishaps making this cheesecake. This included buying marzipan and opening it to find it rock hard. Luckily the cheesecake was still edible. If I were to do it again I would grate the carrot much finer, NOT use a springform pan, and place a towel in the bottom of the waterbath to prevent splashing.....
and not buy rock-hard marzipan.

The Captain has a way of reminding me of his brother.
And the bathtub markers that found their way into Sir O's Easter basket are my new favorite thing ever. He stays occupied for looooong stretches of time (for now).

Dear ebay seller

If you are selling a little boy's outfit on ebay, entitled "Easter outfit...." and you have an auction scheduled to end a week and a half before Easter, there is a good chance your buyer is hoping to get it by Easter. So waiting almost a week to ship it is probably not the best idea.



Just saying.



Perhaps I'll show you what we WANTED to wear today.... next week.

Happy Easter!

Here's why it's happy:

Doing

Trying to live up to my motto: " Do instead of stew..."
I'm pretty sure I invented that motto pre-parenthood.


We did dye our Easter Eggs.
And I did try dying with onion skins (the lovely rust-colored eggs... in case it requires clarification)

We did attend a mud auction. It was cool. There was mud. Lots of it.

And I did get a photo of the Captain's smile! (Blurry schmurry....)

What are you doing instead of stewing?

better

I'd been lamenting the quote that I have the same number of hours in each day as ___(insert remarkable productive famous person's name here).... but I decided that very few remarkable productive famous people were simultaneously doing "remarkable" things and keeping very small children alive. At least nobody comes to mind.

Believe me, I am trying to be easier on myself..... and to a small extent I am succeeding.

This little guy has a mind of his own, and is oh so proficient at wearing me out. (We turned on the lights last night to take a photo of how we found him {finally} sleeping.... )

I had a mini-epiphany this morning. Sir O was watching qubo and the Captain was in his bouncy chair in the bathroom while I tried to quickly bathe. The captain kept wimpering at me and I said to him, "This would go much faster and be fairly painless if you could just be patient for a few short moments..... but then I suppose a few short moments don't feel very short to you."
I decided that God says essentially the same thing to me over and over and over again. Parenting frequently feels like living a parable.

An exhausting parable.

inventory

I came to the sad realization that I haven't blogged anything substantial in, oh, 3 months.

Coincidence?

I really badly want to believe that I can be more productive than I have been. Life has been all about skimming the surface, doing what has to be done to get by. Not a lot of anything that injects me with energy or enthusiasm. And far too many frustrated spells wherein I commit regrettable behavior. Sir O is not the only one guilty of tantrums.

But the Captain has started giggling, and that makes it mostly worth it. (He's also started pinching, and it hurts)

I'm hanging on and hoping that all the "after 6 months I felt like I had a handle on being a mother of two" comments will prove true. I'm halfway there.

I really appreciated the comment in GC that being a parent is a form of service, not only to the children, but also to a loving God who appreciates loving parents willing to sacrifice a great deal to raise and nurture His children. Because these boys I spend all day every day with? They aren't going to remember much of this, so it has to be worth it some other way.

This is the part where you pat me on the back and tell me it gets better once I'm getting a reasonable amount of sleep. Um, go for it.

Consensus

The consensus seems to be that the Captain looks most like a mix of Mr Renn and my 20 yr old brother. What say you?

The boys and me and our genes

For all those who ask me whether the boys look at all like each other, or like me...
All I can do is show you.
We are definitely related, albeit far from identical.

The Captain
button nose
round face
nearly blond hair
my wiry lips
my sunken eyes
my chin dimple
my nearly lazy eyelid


Sir O
beaky nose
my gorilla hair
my wiry lips
my sunken eyes
my chin dimple
my nearly lazy eyelid (only his is the left eye)



And.... me.

Consider it our gift to you

I am apparently a mean mother. Here's an Easter bunny and a little carrot to wish you a happy upcoming Easter. That bunny costume has been a staple for my family. My mom made it for me and every one of my siblings has had the opportunity to be a bunny for halloween. (I was worried Sir O would be too big come October) I had intended to take these photos in time to mail out Easter cards, but it appears time has slipped away from me.... again. For your entertainment here's a slideshow of our session.

This is what happens

When Mr Renn is determined to find a way to hang the camera from the ceiling fan.(Sir O has lately become enamored of putting baby bibs on himself.... I don't understand it either.
Nor do I understand why I am holding an ice cube tray in that 2nd photo.)

The Captain was happily trying to snooze in his basket during these shenanigans. Too bad Sir O can never resist the urge to TOUCH THE BABY'S FACE. I'm learning that it is possible for a newborn to be sleep deprived. The poor kid rarely gets to wake up of his own accord.